


Of Hammocks and Honeymoons

by CaseyStar



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Honeymoon, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:55:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseyStar/pseuds/CaseyStar
Summary: As a wedding gift, Steve gave Danny a hammock.  The sight of his new husband lazing in it is too much for Steve to resist
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 18
Kudos: 157
Collections: Snuggles and Hammocks





	Of Hammocks and Honeymoons

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as a companion/sequel to the fic [Olelo No'eau](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26586394)

There were times, Danny would concede, when Hawaii wasn’t _entirely_ awful.

Dozing away a Monday in the sunshine and slight breeze off the water?

Not awful.

Dozing while around him his new husband – his _husband! –_ made a song and dance of finishing the clearing up after their wedding?

_Priceless_.

It was the goof’s own fault that Danny was so exhausted. Steve had embraced the concept of a wedding night with _enthusiasm_ , despite how Danny had argued that the majority of new spouses were too tired, drunk, or passed out apart to consummate the marriage. Steve, having taken that as a challenge apparently, had ensured that the wedding ‘night’ had lasted roughly thirty-six hours and Danny had bemoaned not buying stocks in Gatorade. As a result, that morning he’d barely had the energy to pull on shorts and certainly not had the manual dexterity to fasten more than two buttons on the plaid shirt he wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t Steve’s but he’d claimed it in his first act of spousal privilege. 

He’d stumbled down the stairs, sought out coffee and one of the thousand Tupperware’s of leftovers from the wedding buffet and headed out to his new hammock, a wedding gift from Steve. The man was still so psychotically determined to get him to appreciate the sounds of the ocean and had set up the frame down near the beach which had, coincidentally enough, provided a prime location from which to watch Steve _‘neat-freak’_ McGarrett fail miserably to efficiently clear the mess of confetti and glitter from the tables so they’d be ready for the hire company to collect. It wouldn’t be an easy task; Grace had gotten a little overexcited with the decorating and for all she was hurtling towards college-age at a truly distressing rate, something about being allowed to help plan a wedding had reverted her to the glitter-obsessed eight year old that Steve had first met. Danny had been lounging in his hammock for several hours and while the coffee and cake were long since gone, the entertainment had continued.

“So glad you’re enjoying yourself over there. Wouldn’t want you to exert yourself.”

“’ _You won’t have to do a thing, Danno! I’ll do everything, Danno! You won’t have to lift a finger, Danno!’_ ” Danny yelled back without opening his eyes. “Does any of that sound familiar?”

“I don’t sound like that, and this isn’t what I meant!” A crash followed by a prolonged clattering sound suggested the tower of chairs Steve had been constructing for the last twenty minutes had toppled over. The detective grinned up at the sky as he rolled onto his back, the warmth of the sun and soft movement of the hammock giving the world a syrupy, almost unreal, quality. 

Life really _was_ good.

“But it _is_ what you said,” He called out over the din, and inventive cursing coming from near the lanai. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” Danny thumbed the ring that rested on his finger, heart fluttering at the thought that over time the pristine band would bear nicks and scratches but, just like them, it would endure.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

Danny flailed in surprise at Steve’s voice coming from right above him. Damn stealth! The hammock swung wildly until Steve reached out and grabbed the top bar, easing its movements. Opening his eyes, Danny blinked desperately against the bright sunlight until Steve’s face came into focus.

His ludicrously fond, smug, in love face. Danny’s heart, much to his annoyance, skipped a beat. Over the years he’d been subjected to, and memorised, every one of Steve’s numerous expressions, and while he had a fondness for ‘ _surprised because he was outplayed #3’_ because it always associated a situation in which Steve was reminded he was a mere human like the rest of them, ‘ _deeply, and eternally, in love with a mouthy Jersey cop’_ was his favourite.

“Hey,” the idiot murmured, resting one warm hand on Danny’s thigh, fingers _just_ teasing under the hem of his shorts but exploring no further, seemingly content to stroke along the small patch of skin.

“You done?” Danny asked, but didn’t move Steve’s hand. “You don’t _sound_ done.” He lolled his head to check out what he was sure was a disaster area but Steve swiftly side-stepped to block his view. Which answered that question, anyway.

“I deserve a break.” Those fingers rubbed back and forth across Danny’s thigh but the detective studiously ignored them, as well as the sly smile on Steve’s face. 

Which was a mistake. A knee to the groin and an elbow to the kidney later, Steve settled into the hammock too, one long leg draping to the ground so he could push against it and set them to swaying before draping the limb over and around Danny, cuddling close. Between the double wide sling and how closely they clung together, they were encompassed in excess fabric, enveloping them in their own little cocoon, safe from the outside world.

“Ugh, must you?” Danny refused to move or help, the hammock’s wooden frame creaking at the mistreatment as Steve manhandled him around until he was seemingly satisfied. “I should have known this wasn’t a gift for me. I’m surprised you didn’t put a lock on it just so you could steal the key.”

“It’s big enough for two.” Steve nuzzled his face into Danny’s shoulder, biting down a grin.

“It is _not,”_ Danny lied vehemently. The hammock _would_ probably easily accommodate a family of four, but Danny had been enjoying being able to spread out, body cushioned by a truly astounding number of pillows that had probably been selected by Tani because Lord knew Steve had no decorating skills to speak of. The house was proof of that. Now those pillows were on the ground and while Steve had some, and even Danny would begrudgingly admit it, good qualities, he was not as comfortable to lie against as an overstuffed cushion.

Which he began to explain, in great detail, to Steve, who responded with his favourite way of shutting Danny up. He grasped Danny’s neck in one hand, the other twisting deep into his blond hair. The detective hadn’t bothered combing it that morning let alone taming it back with gel and its disordered strands had been driving Steve crazy from the moment he’d spied his new husband crossing to the hammock as he’d stepped out of the ocean after his morning swim. Using his hold, he tugged Danny’s head back and held him still so he could kiss him, messy, deep, and desperate, chasing the sweet taste of the lilikoi bar the detective had eaten for breakfast.

“You’re all sweaty,” the detective complained when he tore his mouth away to breathe. In response, Steve only nuzzled closer, his left hand sliding into Danny’s like it belonged there. Their rings clinked together as Steve twinned their fingers together, holding tight. Danny watched as Steve drew their linked hands to his mouth, his husband smacking kisses across Danny’s knuckles and around his wedding band.

He had a _husband._

He really _had_ vowed to spend the rest of his life with this idiot, hadn’t he?

“You _love_ me,” Steve told him, letting him know that he’d spoken out loud, sounding so disgustingly self-assured that Danny couldn’t resist bursting his bubble just a little despite the obvious truth to his husband’s words, even though looking at him now, all happy and relaxed, Danny was willing to admit anything, if only he got to keep this wonderful, infuriating, loving man. 

“You’re okay.”

“You _love_ me.”

“I tolerate you. For the orgasms.”

Steve’s laugh was a carefree, happy, _amazing_ sound that Danny still wasn’t used to hearing. Steve had always been quick to smile, and once he’d settled into being at home again his chuckling amusement, often at Danny’s expense, had become commonplace. But true, unabashed laughter? That was far rarer and was to be rewarded. He cradled Steve’s face as they kissed, but kept it brief, a teasing lick of his tongue between Steve’s lips, a nip to the full lower one before sucking a line of kisses along his jaw. Over the years, Steve had bulked out, losing the hungry leanness of his youth, but his jawline remained razor sharp and Danny delighted in dragging his teeth along it to suck a mark behind his ear. 

Steve struggled to hitch himself up on one elbow, causing the hammock to swing with a creak and Danny to roll further into him which, while not his goal, was welcome, and he threw a leg over Danny to stop him shifting away again. He cupped Danny’s cheek and dropped a kiss onto his lips. 

“So what you’re saying is, I’m _so_ good in bed, you married me.”

“That –that is not!” Spluttered Danny, shoving Steve away, grabbing at the side of the hammock when the action made it swing and shake. “That is _not_ what I meant.”

“It’s what you said.”

“It is not. It absolutely is _not_. I merely put up with you for sex.”

“I was putting out pretty regular if I recall,” Steve mused and as he did, he lowered his hand to cup Danny through his shorts with a loving squeeze. “Didn’t _have_ to marry me.”

“Now he tells me,” grumbled Danny, arching into the touch, his own hands hardly idle. He trailed his fingers down the channel of Steve’s spine to his lower back, shifting one leg to the side to cradle Steve between his thighs before locking his calf around the back of Steve’s knees to keep him close. 

It had been apparent early on in their relationship that Steve preferred to be physically on top, even when he was bottoming, which Danny had always put down to his natural protectiveness combined with engrained training. Before falling in love with Steve, Danny had been with a few women taller than him, but he’d never felt the way he did when Steve was atop him. Steve somehow managed to make him feel protected without feeling weak, encased but not small. 

Steve rolled his hips down in response, rocking with more force against Danny, grinding their hips together. The resultant press of his short’s zipper into his cock just bordered on pain, but instead of pulling away, Danny was helpless to do anything but arch into the sensation with a groan. The years he’d spent with Steve had so ruined him, that his poor brain found it impossible to distinguish pain from pleasure.

Over the years they’d had sex in a myriad of locations – bed, cars, beach, the ocean, a tent after Steve had begged and pleaded Danny to go camping with him, and that one time in a hospital when Danny, high on post-firefight adrenaline and fear had pushed Steve to his knees and come down his throat both still fully decked out in their tac gear. The hammock was a whole other experience. Even in the ocean, Steve had been standing on the sandy bottom, allowing him some leverage, but the hammock was completely suspended, rocking and swaying in its wooden frame.

“Mr McGarrett,” Danny broke their kiss, faux-scandalised, “we are outside!”

“When has that ever stopped us?” Steve chased Danny’s lips and mumbled, “and it’s _Commander_ ,” against them.

“For the last time, I’m _not_ calling you that in bed.”

“As you so ably noted, we’re _not_ in a bed.”

“Still not calling you Commander.”

“We’ll see.”

“No, we won’t.

“If I recall, you also vowed you’d never remarry and look what happened.” Steve’s tone turned awed as he brought Danny’s left hand up, sucking his ring finger into his mouth until the warm metal brushed against his lips. He traced his tongue along the rim of it, feeling Danny shudder against him as he teased the sensitive skin.

“Yea-yeah,” Danny breathed, going cross-eyed as he watched his husband’s cheeks hollow around hi finger, lips pursed, eyes shining. “It only took a decade to wear me down.”

Steve pulled back with a pop, blowing a stream of cool air over the moist flesh. “So, you admit it’s possible then?”

Danny’s eyes were hooded but sharp as he watched Steve’s lips purse. As though he could feel Steve’s eyes upon him, he flicked his eyes up to meet Steve’s gaze, heat pooling in his gut at the sight. Steve’s pupils were blown, cheeks ruddy, lips swollen. After their marathon consummation session, Danny had been sure it’d be a week at best before he could get it up again without the assistance of a crane but watching as Steve licked his lips, leaving them slick and shining, he was desperate once again, dying to feed his cock between those perfect lips again.

Steve’s lips were always so soft. Danny had once turned the man’s bathroom upside down looking for the balm that he _had_ to own without success. The contrast between the plumpness of his lips with the roughness of his stubble was something that Danny never tired of and he, wrapping an arm around Steve’s neck to bring those lips back to his.

His other hand reached down to the hem of Steve’s top. Regardless of how soft and washed out it was, it was a barrier between them and he wanted it gone. Danny tugged on it, awkwardly plucking at the fabric until Steve finally helped, grunting in annoyance when they had to separate in order for him to tug the garment over his head, before tossing it, with a ridiculous flourish, over the side of the hammock. 

Danny splayed his hands wide on Steve’s revealed chest. He could feel the pounding of his husband’s heart, a strong and steady rhythm that so often lulled him to sleep at night. Any vestiges of sleep, however, had long since fled the detective.

Steve’s chest was covered in marks from Danny’s mouth and nails, bruises and welts that he knew his husband revelled in. It hadn’t been a surprise to him that Steve enjoyed rough sex on occasion, but hadn’t expected to learn that Steve _loved_ wearing the marks that Danny left on him as a result. It had always been hard to keep a shirt on Steve during their downtime, but when Danny left scratches across his back and the imprints of his teeth along his bicep? Steve wanted to flaunt those marks the length and breadth of Waikiki, and routinely did.

As much as some darker part of his soul had thrilled to watch his lover parade those marks, Danny _had_ lain down the law that when around the kids, Steve wore a rash guard if things had gotten wild. There were looks and questions from his kids that he _never_ needed.

Whenever he caught sight of the marks, Danny wanted to smudge his mouth over every bruise and scratch, wishing they’d last longer than they ever did, scars that Steve _chose_ to wore, that had been put there with love and desire, rather than pain and hatred. Since they’d been together Steve had been making noise about getting a tattoo, something unique and special to them, but he’d yet to commit to the ‘perfect’ design.

He tangled his fingers into Steve’s hair, delighted again that he’d convinced the other man to stop giving himself a buzzcut so that Danny had something to grab, and yanked Steve’s head back to expose his neck to Danny’s mouth. Latching onto the tendon, Danny bit down and sucked, lapping at the trapped skin between his lips.

“ _Yes,”_ encouraged Steve, arching his head back further as Danny marked him anew, growling against the skin as Steve jerked above him. The SEAL rolled onto his husband as best as he could, and Danny felt the familiar weight and heat of Steve’s cock hardening against his thigh, the boardies he still wore from his morning swim doing nothing to hide his arousal. Those shorts were honestly the only reason to wake up early enough to greet Steve on the beach with a coffee after his swim. Between the man’s slim hips and skinny ass, the boardies were always dangerously low-slung, but with the weight of water dragging them down and moulding them to the flesh beneath they were practically obscene and Danny had demonstrated his appreciation for them on more than one, unfortunately sandy, occasion.

Steve’s hands were everywhere, teasing up underneath his shirt to smooth over his belly, trailing down his thigh, cupping his hip to pull their bodies flush so they could thrust against each other. As their bodies slot together his hands slid back up under the shirt – and how Steve’s heart had raced at the sight of Danny sleepily wandering out onto the lanai in his shirt - and easily flicked the buttons free so he could push the sides apart before smoothing down over the revealed skin to tease at the waistband of his shorts.

The fleeting contact had Danny bucking up with a moan, enthusiastically supporting Steve’s obvious desire. It was the work of a moment for Steve to pop the button on his husband’s ridiculous cutoffs before flicking at the zipper tab, running his forefinger and down the length of the teeth until, with a growl, Danny yanked it down himself.

Belying his earlier complaint about being outside, Danny stretched out, wrestling beneath Steve’s weight to push his shorts off his hips, revealing he wore no underwear beneath. It was an awkward shuffle as Steve muscled to his knees, thighs spread wide to try and hold his balance, the hammock lurching dangerously more than once, but Steve managed to push Danny’s shorts down his thighs, past his knees and, with a tearing sound, off one ankle. Danny was certain that, in deference to their locale and the need for haste, Steve would go straight for his cock, desperate for attention as it was where it lay leaking against his belly. Instead, Steve’s hands smoothed up his thighs, avoiding his groan and swept up his belly and across his chest.

Steve _adored_ Danny’s body and never missed a chance to worship it. It was so very different to his own; his husband was compact in a way that he, for all his training and strength, had never been. Danny’s body hair was so thick and across his belly and chest and yet beneath Steve’s palms it was soft as he ran reverent hands over his belly and up his chest, and where Steve’s nipples provided little pleasure for him, Danny’s own were practically hotwired to his cock. Steve had once spent a highly entertaining and delightful hour doing no more than playing with Danny’s nipples, circling them with a fingertip until Danny squirmed, pinching them until they were red and peaked, and rasping his stubbled cheek over the abused flesh, before he’d taken pity and lowered his mouth to suck one between his lips and finally, _finally_ Danny had come untouched, cursing a blue streak against Steve and every one of his ancestors as he’d jerked ropes of comes across his belly.

Scraping his nails gently across peaked nipples and firm chest, trailing over the furred belly and down to Danny’s hips, Steve’s thumbs caressed along the defined muscle that arrowed down to Danny’s cock. Too many times to count, Steve had traced that line with his tongue, felt the muscles bunch and twitch beneath his lips as he’d kissed his way down to suck Danny. In lieu of being able to do that, he let his thumbs graze along the muscle and down to the hair of Danny’s groin, oh-so-close to his husband’s cock but refraining from touching him, from giving him the relief the other man so clearly wanted. Steve grinned as Danny arched up into him, thrusting his hips up on a groan.

Not to be outdone, Danny moved his hands swiftly to Steve’s waist. His shorts had long since dried during his time working in the sun, but the salt had left the fabric a little stiff and the waistband was damp with sweat as Danny working his fingers beneath the cloth. Steve hadn’t pulled the fastening tight so Danny was able to worm his hands fully into the back of the shorts, filling his hands with Steve’s ass. Pulling his husband’s hips tight against him, he rocked up into him like they were teenagers. 

“Steve…”

“Want something, babe?” Steve shifted his weight to lift his hips a little despite Danny’s grumble of annoyance and his own disappointment at how the move jostled Danny’s hands from his shorts, the detective grabbing at his hips instead. The tightness of his grip caused Steve to hiss in satisfaction at the thought of the bruises that would later bloom. He adjusted his hold, cupping Danny’s inner thighs, hands fitting into the crease where thigh met groin, fingers framing but not touching his cock, thumbs snugged up behind Danny’s tight balls, pressing against his perineum.

“Yessssss.” Danny tried again to shift his hips, this time down onto Steve’s thumbs so they’d graze against his hole but the man’s grip was too firm, holding him immobile, forcing him to take only what Steve would give.

For all that Steve was the single most impatient man that Danny had ever met, in bed he liked to take his time. When they’d first gotten together, Danny had never expected Steve to be a selfish lover, just one that, after years of DADT and hurried assignations, leaned more towards ‘ _wham, bam, thank you Sam’_. Instead, more often than not Steve liked to draw out every moment, wring every ounce of pleasure from every touch, ever caress, every kiss. He revelled in keeping Danny on the edge until he was dripping, a writhing and sweat-soaked mess.

Under normal circumstances, Danny was more than willing to indulge what he suspected was in part a deep-seated need to please born of his husband’s numerous insecurities and fear of abandonment alongside his rampant control issues, but not now. Now he wanted, _needed_ to come.

“How _much_ do you want it?” One of Steve’s thumbs dipped closer to Danny’s hole, just _barely_ teasing the furled rim, a feather-light touch but no more.

“ _Steven_.” He’d intended it to be commanding but the name came out like a whine and he tugged fruitlessly on Steve’s hips again, the hammock rocking as the SEAL resisted being pulled down.

“ _How_ much do you want it?” Steve repeated, leaning closer, stomach quivering with the effort of holding himself off Danny as he flicked his tongue over the lobe of Danny’s ear. “Hmmm?”

Holding Steve’s gaze, and unable to move his hips, Danny took another approach to lure the other man into giving him what he so desperately wanted. He struggled under Steve’s weight to bring up one knee, crooking his thighs apart and, carefully, hooking his calf over the side of the hammock, shorts dangling from his ankle until, with a flick of his foot, they dropped to the ground, leaving himself fully bared to Steve’s gaze. 

“I want it. I want it now, _please.”_

Wrapping his arms around Steve’s lower back, Danny urged the other man to settle between his thighs, to press him down into the hammock and Steve obliged with gratifying speed, nuzzling his face into Danny’s neck to muffle the sound of his groan as their hips pressed together. They’d had years of practice, yet still Steve was shocked at how naturally their bodies wound around each other. 

They fit so perfectly, always had. 

Danny’s palms smoothed up and over the curve of Steve’s ass to pull him closer, slipping once more beneath his shorts to fill his hands with the firm flesh, his husband lifting his ass up to push it into Danny’s touch.

Steve grunted and bucked forward as Danny massaged his ass, fingers slipping into his crack, to tease at his hole before pulling the cheeks apart only to push them together again, over and over. He’d been obsessed with Steve’s ass since early in their partnership, years before they’d ever gotten together. Steve had leaped into the harbour still wearing his cargos and when he’d hauled himself back onto the dock, Danny had been hit with a wave of lust so strong, a desire to get his hands on that ass so overwhelming he’d barely been able to cobble together enough coherent thought to insult the other man’s ridiculous life choices.

“Wish I could get my mouth on you properly,” Danny purred into Steve’s ear, rubbing a finger over the furled skin of his entrance. He wasn’t above playing dirty to get what he wanted, and Steve’s obsession with his mouth and how he used it wasn’t remotely a secret.

“Oh?” Steve’s breath hitched as he nipped at Danny’s shoulder, a little of his control ebbing away as Danny spoke. 

“Hmmm. I’m thinking about how crazy you get when I get my tongue in you…get you wet…get you open for me…I’m sure you could figure it out, babe. A way we could do it here, how you could ride me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To ride me out here, sound of the ocean, the sun, me inside you while we rock in this death trap you bought me...”

Steve’s shudder and wild thrust had Danny grinning at the sky as he absent-mindedly tapped his forefinger against Steve’s hole. He skin was tingling, at just the thought of what he could do to Steve. What Steve would let him, _beg_ him to do as he slowly took him apart. If only he could get the other man naked.

With that in mind, Danny pawed at Steve’s hips, frustrated at how the shorts wouldn’t succumb to his attentions and just _get the fuck off_ his husband’s body already. Chuckling at his annoyance, and not entirely unaware he was being manipulated, Steve rolled away to help.

But he wasn’t willing to concede too quickly. He trailed his fingers along the waistband of his shorts, plucking at the drawstring as he drank in Danny’s every response; the flutter of his heart racing in his throat, the loud swallow that bobbed Danny’s throat when he wrapped the string around his finger and tugged, and the slick of his tongue as it darted across lips when Steve undid the laces. Danny’s hands were on him moments later, scrabbling at his skin to push the fabric to the top of Steve’s thighs, glutting himself on the feel of the revealed skin. It was always so pale in comparison to the golden tan that covered the rest of Steve’s body. There was a vulnerability to the skin, and it made the primal part of Danny ferociously proud that only he, and the odd fish, got to see it. Or touch it. Or taste it.

Forever.

Grasping the top of Steve’s thighs, getting a hold of the bunched shorts, Danny hauled Steve back onto him, raking his nails over the smooth skin as a reward when Steve fell back onto him with a groan as their cocks rubbed against each other. 

It was a touch too dry, both men leaking but more had pooled on Danny’s stomach than down his length and there was likely a wet patch the size of Texas on Steve’s shorts. But neither man cared as Steve wrapped a hand around them both, hissing at the sensation, Danny pressing his head and shoulders back into the hammock as he fought for enough leverage to thrust up against Steve’s weight and into his hand, cock twitching at the drag of Steve’s palm until he was able to smear his palm across their tips and spread slick along their lengths.

Despite that, Danny reached for his arm, tugging until Steve released him reluctantly. Looking him in the eye, Danny raised Steve’s hand to his mouth and licked along his palm, their taste bursting across his tongue as he sucked long fingers into his mouth, feeling the sting in his lips as they stretched.

“ _Fuck,”_ Steve whispered.

“Later. We’ll get there, babe.” Danny promised as he drew back, lips brushing against Steve’s fingertips, making him shiver. He sucked Steve’s thumb into his mouth, teeth biting down on the joint as he hollowed his cheeks, tongue teasing the length. Steve’s hips powered forward again, setting the hammock rocking wildly.

“Danny…” It was little more than a strangled whisper and he tugged his hand free, hissing as Danny’s teeth scraped his skin and he fumbled for his cock. He gave himself one, two, three swift jerks before rolling close and wrapping his large hand around them both once more.

“That’s it,” Danny praised, lifting his hips into Steve’s hold with a sigh. One of Danny’s hands reached down to meet Steve’s, wrapping his fingers around and between Steve’s with a squeeze. His knuckles bumped and rubbed along Steve’s belly as he jerked them both.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Danny murmured when Steve groaned, tightening their joined grip further. His head fell forward to rest their foreheads together, his hitching breaths warm across Danny’s lips as he tried to keep kissing him, light and uncoordinated smacks of his lips against Danny’s skin, his iron control falling away as he gave himself over to pleasure.

Danny loved the feel of Steve in his hand, the slick that coated his palm with every twisting pull, the heat practically searing as they rubbed together, sweat and slick mingling with the spit that he’d spread across Steve’s hand and that now coated them both.

“God I love your cock.”

“I love _you._ ”

Danny struggled to shake free of the pleasure haze and scrape together enough braincells to comprehend anything other than the heat of Steve’s cock shuttling through his fingers and the rasp of his stubble against Danny’s temple. 

He lolled his head to the side and found Steve staring intently down at him. His expression was relaxed, eyes wide and awestruck, pupils blown as he gazed at Danny. The love he felt for the detective was so apparent that Danny was almost embarrassed to see it, overwhelmed by its power. Over the years, Steve had improved at displaying emotions other than anger and annoyance. Therapy, first enforced and later voluntary both with and without Danny, as well as feeling safe within their relationship had allowed him to be increasingly comfortable with the inherent vulnerability of revealing more and more of himself, but it remained a gift that Danny never took for granted. He knew he was on a short list of one that glimpsed that side of Steve. 

He released his hold on Steve’s cock and wrapped his hands around thick biceps and hauled his husband down for a kiss, crushing their bodies together so tightly Steve was unable to keep his grip on them, tugging his hand free to wrap it around Danny’s hip instead

“I love you, babe. I love you so much.”

Steve ducked his head into Danny’s neck, hiding his face and inhaled deeply. He’d barely allowed Danny out of their bed after the wedding and the one shower he had been nagged into had largely resulted them in not getting much cleaner but likely _had_ added several zeros to their water bill. Steve had wrestled Danny back into their bed moments after they’d stepped out of the long-since-cold water and set about systematically restoring warmth, and his claim, to every inch of skin. His husband had seemingly been too exhausted that morning to shower and so as a result their combined scent was still thick on Danny’s skin and it was _intoxicating_.

With the gentle breeze was unable to penetrate their little cocoon and the noon sun beating down, the humidity built, sweat beading on their skin, their combined scent surrounding them – Steve groaned, wishing he could get his mouth on Danny but aware of the challenging logistics of their situation and unwilling to delay enough to get Danny even as far as the chaise on the lanai.

But just the thought of it had Steve rocking so firmly into Danny that the framework of the hammock creaked and, though neither man noticed, one of the feet lifted from the ground as the whole thing rocked. It set the hammock swinging wildly, temporarily putting Steve off his stroke but he adapted quickly, rolling his hips down into Danny more than thrusting, using Danny’s moans and the sway of the hammock to guide his actions.

It wasn’t hard to find a rhythm to match the movement of the hammock, and Danny brought his other leg up to curl his calf around Steve’s lower back, his heel digging into Steve’s ass, pulling him closer, guiding the speed and depth of Steve’s movements.

Danny avidly drank in the expression on Steve’s face; the fluttering of his eyelashes, the way his jaw dropped just a little as he began to pant more heavily, the furrow that appeared between his brows as he chased his orgasm. Being the loving, giving, _caring_ husband that he was, Danny released his grip on Steve’s bicep, and pressed two fingers against Steve’s lips, sinking them deep into his mouth when the man eagerly opened for them. He sucked greedily on Danny’s fingers, getting them wet and the moment they were withdrawn, Steve’s mouth was on him, the kiss deep and dirty.

It turned sloppy as Danny’s fingers returned to Steve’s ass, tracing his hole before plunging deep inside, stretching and rubbing.

“Danny!” Steve bit back on a cry as those questing fingers found what they were searching for, screwing deep into Steve to tease against his prostate, the poor angle causing Danny’s wrist to ache but he didn’t care. Steve’s hips jerked, rhythm lost as he was torn between thrusting down against Danny or back onto his fingers. Only a few, short thrusts later and he was coming, heat pouring between their bellies.

Something must have shown on Danny’s face, satisfaction or smugness at getting him off first, but Steve’s expression turned swiftly from one of lax pleasure to predatory, a look that never failed to arouse Danny to distraction and little moans fell from the man’s lips as, over-stimulated, he redoubled his efforts, shifting his hips as much as he could within Danny’s tight clasp, Danny’s heels digging into the backs of his thighs.

“I love you…I love you…I love you…” It was as though Steve had forgotten every other word as he strove to bring Danny over the edge with him a mere couple of thrusts later, Danny shooting between them with a groan.

Danny wanted to just lie there, luxuriating, maybe fall asleep in a contented heap, but between the midday sun and Steve collapsed on top of him, it was too hot for comfort. Not to mention that Steve’s naked ass was visible for all of their neighbours to see, and the only thing keeping them from getting a good look at _him._ The exhibitionist he was married to might not care, but _he_ did. Not to mention the risk of sunburn in some very delicate places that no sunburn had the right to be. Still, a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. Just five or so, as he ran his hands up and down Steve’s back, pressing kisses into whatever sweaty skin he could reach. 

Over the sound of their panting breaths, the sharp cracking noise was ominously loud. Under Steve, Danny' body stiffened, losing the languid bonelessness of climax. Slowly, so achingly slowly, Danny tipped his head back and squinted. The frame was just visible. As was where the slat had broken in two, the supporting ropes fraying and unravelling away from the wood.

“Steve...who did you get this from?”

“Umm.”

_"Steven. Tell_ me you did not get this hammock, your wedding gift to the love of your life, from anyone named Kamekona, related to anyone called Kamekona or in any way _associated_ with anyone called Kamekona.” Danny’s hand, where it had been petting along Steve’s back as they’d come down from their high, dug painfully into his shoulder, though he didn’t look away from where the ropes were visibly beginning to slip through the main frame. The hammock began to sag in little jerking movements.

“Uhhh.”

“Are you shitting me right now?!”

With deliberate movements, Steve began to unwind himself from Danny, shifting to the side with great care. The movement incited another cracking sound, the hammock dropping sharply before stopping with a gently sway when one of the broken slats smacked into the frame, halting the progress of the unravelling rope.

“Stop!” Danny ordered, one hand flailing to grab a hold of any part of Steve he could reach but failing, his hands sliding on Steve’s sweat slick skin. Ignoring him, and honestly Danny had **_insisted_** on obey in the vows for a _reason_ , Steve tried to hook a thigh over the edge and -

The bottom fell out of their world and hammock, Danny and Steve crashed to the ground.  
  
From the heap of limbs that lay twisted beneath the rubble of broken framework and unspooling fabric, but thankfully atop the previously discarded cushions one hand freed itself and groped around until it got a hold of a wrist and yanked. Once Danny got his face free of Steve’s stupidly large bicep, he took a deep breath and with great resolution announced,

“I want a divorce.”

**Author's Note:**

> Danny's look in the fic is based off this picture.  
> [](https://ibb.co/K5pYN6T)


End file.
